


In Sickness and in Health

by stelladora



Category: BioShock
Genre: Atlas is Real, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4125766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelladora/pseuds/stelladora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the two of them defeat Fontaine, Atlas notices that Jack is showing the early signs of ADAM sickness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

With everything that had been happening within the past few days (or had it only been hours? Jack wasn’t certain anymore), Jack hadn’t exactly had time to check his appearance. All that mattered to him was that his body wasn’t screaming in pain or gushing blood. And thanks to what Tenenbaum had called “astoundingly accelerated metabolism and cell regeneration,” neither of those had been much of a problem for him on his journey through Rapture. When he and Atlas had finally found each other in Apollo Square, Jack had been astonished to realize just how delicate the man was. Since then, he’d always tried to be on the front lines whenever they encountered splicers.

Jack’s appearance hadn’t mattered to him, and he didn’t notice anything out of place until Atlas mentioned it as they ransacked an abandoned apartment in Olympus Heights, searching for more ammunition, or anything that would be of use when they met Fontaine.

“You get burned or something?” Atlas asked, his eyes scanning Jack’s face, taking in the sight of the rough red patches there.

Jack self-consciously lifted a hand to his cheek. “I don’t think so. Maybe some stray shrapnel from a grenade or something. It’ll be fine,” he said dismissively.

Atlas just chuckled. “You’re lucky, boyo. People down here would pay dearly for that little magic trick o’ yours.”

“What, being grown in a lab? Being an experiment rather than a human being?” It wasn’t like Jack to snap like that, but recently…

Seeing he’d struck a nerve, Atlas backed off, closing the cabinet he’d been searching through. “I meant the healing, that’s all. Sorry. Shall we get going?” he said, feeling chastened.

Jack found an EVE hypo lying on a bookshelf and snatched it up, just in case. “Yeah. Fontaine’s place is close by, isn’t it?”

“Should be.” They walked on, and Atlas tried to ignore the thoughts creeping into the back of his head. He’d seen hundreds of people with those red splotches on their skin, and he knew it was only downhill from there.

* * *

 

The pair stood panting in Fontaine’s hideout in Point Prometheus, silent as the realization of their success dawned on them. The little sisters had cleared out through a vent, taking away the ADAM that had changed the con man beyond all recognition. Jack and Atlas had told them they’d return to Tenenbaum soon to regroup. For now, however, they had decided to rest after their ordeal.

“How are you doing?”

“Oh, just tip-top,” Atlas said sarcastically. He chuckled, standing unnaturally still to avoid jostling any injuries. Catching Jack’s worried look, Atlas chuckled. “Listen, just because I can’t heal myself in thirty seconds doesn’t mean I’m made of glass. I just…need a few more bandages. And maybe some aspirin.” There was a large gash in his left leg, which the two of them did their best to patch up with their first aid kits. The blood was quickly soaking through their efforts, however.

Jack felt like someone had reached into his chest and was squeezing his heart; worry had him in its claws. “We should get to Tenenbaum’s,” he advised. “I know you don’t like her, but she’ll have more supplies. Can you walk?”

“I’m not going to get there any other way, am I?” Atlas said with a small chuckle. He fought back the pain, telling himself it wasn’t so bad. _Mind over matter. That should be the goddamn motto of this city,_ Atlas thought to himself.

“Come here. Put your arm around my shoulders,” Jack ordered, standing on the man’s injured side.

Doing as he was told, Atlas looked into his friend’s face. “Those spots are getting worse, boyo,” he said quietly. It was difficult to tell what wounds Jack had suffered at the hands of Fontaine and what was due to the splicing. “We should ask Tenenbaum about that—”

“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt or anything; I’m sure it’s nothing,” Jack said as the two got moving. “Besides, you need more help than I do.” He took a hypo from his pocket and jabbed it into his left wrist before Atlas could protest.

“I do wish you wouldn’t do that as much,” Atlas said, unconsciously wrinkling his nose in distaste as Jack flexed his fingers, causing blue sparks to crackle in the stagnant air.

Jack just rolled his eyes. “My shooting hand is a little busy keeping you on your feet. What do you propose we do if we meet up with a splicer or security bot? Just wave and walk on by?” he asked teasingly.

“If those damn splicers were sane enough to make conversation, maybe we could ask them what the first symptoms of ADAM sickness are. I’d be willing to bet they’d say it’s a red rash on the face and arms.” Atlas had stopped walking and was looking sternly at Jack. “I’ve been here for years, boyo, and I’ve seen what that stuff does to people. I’m not keen on seeing it happen to you.”

“I haven’t been here for years,” Jack admitted, stopping in the damp corridor to face the other man, “because I spent most of my life anesthetized on a lab table while scientists ran tests on me to see how quickly my cells could regenerate, or how well I obeyed their mental conditioning,” he snapped. “My body isn’t exactly _normal_. What makes you think the normal side effects will happen to me?”

Atlas’ heart sank as he listened to Jack’s tirade. He felt exhausted, and all the will to argue seeped out of him, pooling with the seawater on the tile floor. He was only trying to help. “Let’s just keep moving, yeah?” he said with a sigh. Perhaps he could get Tenenbaum to look the kid over without him putting up too much of an argument.

They began walking again, Atlas trying to avoid putting too much pressure on his injured leg. Jack noticed, and silently put Atlas’ arm around his shoulders again, a nagging feeling of guilt at the back of his mind. “We did good, didn’t we?” he said quietly as they made their way through the deserted Apollo Square.

Atlas chuckled. “Yeah, we did. Although getting rid of that Fontaine bastard might be too little too late.” He looked up at the reinforced glass ceiling above them. They were miles below the surface of the North Sea, in a decaying city filled with corpses. How long could this fantasy go on? _We have to get out of here,_ Atlas thought to himself. _Rapture is dead._  

* * *

 

“Oi, let us in!” Atlas called through the metal door of Tenenbaum’s hideout. A sliding grate at face-level opened, revealing her mistrustful brown eyes. Upon recognizing them, she ducked out of sight, and they heard the heavy _thunk_ of the key in the lock.

“You have done it, then?” she asked as she admitted the pair. “My little ones returned some time ago, telling me what happened.”

“Yeah. Fontaine’s dead,” Jack said, hovering nervously over Atlas as the man sat down on an old wooden chair. “Have you got any bandages to spare?” In the back of his mind, Jack wondered why he didn’t feel happier. The two men who had made Rapture a living hell, who had torn the city apart from the inside, were dead by his hands. Shouldn’t he feel proud? Or glad to have done away with them? Instead, the only thing he could focus on was the blood. It had coated the golf club, soaked into the carpet, dried on the wool of his sweater, turned Atlas’ white bandages crimson. _Rapture may be under the ocean, but it’s soaked with more blood than seawater,_ Jack thought, gripping the back of Atlas’ chair tightly. Perhaps he just needed time to calm down. Surely the knot of anxiety in his stomach would unravel soon. He wished he had more EVE; at this point, using plasmids was easier than using guns, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t safe, that something was lurking in the shadows, waiting for them…

“Jack? You listening?”

Jack blinked, realizing he’d been caught up in his own thoughts, not paying attention. He looked down into Atlas’ clear eyes sheepishly. “Sorry. What was that?”

“I told you to go sit, relax somewhere. You look done in, kid.” Atlas smiled kindly, and Jack could see a flicker of the old Atlas, the one who’d rallied so many supporters in the early days of the war. The ‘man of the people’ who won what he wanted with equal parts charm and subversion. But now the smile wasn’t directed at the poor down in Pauper’s Drop, or the hopeless survivors in Rapture’s slums. Now, the smile was solely for him, and Jack couldn’t help but feel a little warmer. Jack felt the corners of his mouth tug upward as he dropped his gaze down to the floor. He let his hand brush over Atlas’ broad shoulder as he moved away, into the other room where there were a few beds. He sat down on the edge of one, and suddenly all his exhaustion hit him at once. Jack lay down, and was asleep in moments.

“I wanted to talk to you about him,” Atlas said, his voice low as Tenenbaum reentered the room, holding disinfectant and a roll of white bandages. “I’m worried about him.”

“No need to worry,” she said with her thick German accent, thrusting the supplies into his hands. “His genetic structure does not allow for wounds to last long. In that way, he is much like the little ones.”

Atlas set to work patching himself up as Tenenbaum took a seat and lit up a cigarette. “Would all that cell regeneration—that’s what ya call it? Would all that cell regeneration o’ his keep him from getting ADAM sickness?”

Tenenbaum’s expression turned pensive as she exhaled smoke up to the ceiling. “I do not know,” she said, brow furrowed. “Using plasmids restructures the genes, including the adverse effects… If he used them often and consistently enough, his body could perhaps grow accustomed to it, consider the spliced version to be the correct one. Yes, I believe his addiction could lead him down the same path as the others,” she mused. “Why is it that you ask?”

“I’ve noticed he’s got that same rash that they all get in the beginning.”

She frowned at that. “Then it has already begun. Strange that he should be so far gone in such a short time…”

Atlas kept his voice down, throwing a furtive glance to the other room, where from the silence he guessed Jack was asleep. “Can you reverse it?”

“Uncertain. I will need to examine him. No one has ever cured ADAM sickness,” Tenenbaum reminded Atlas.

His face fell, but he resisted the temptation to jump to conclusions. There was still hope. If he’d learned anything lately, it was to never count Jack out. He handed back the medical supplies. “You should do that when he wakes up. I’m going to go get some rest as well.”

“Did I invite you here?” Tenenbaum asked him with a huff.

“Oh, you’re not going to turn away two boys in need, are ya?” he asked with a grin, already on his way to the other room. She muttered something in German, but he couldn’t make it out.

 


	2. Chapter 2

When Jack awoke, he felt hazy and reluctant to move. He quickly realized that, for the duration of his time in Rapture, he had never slept more than three consecutive hours, and even that had been an accident. As he slowly woke up, he sighed contentedly and stretched out, hardly noticing how uncomfortable the cot really was. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so well-rested.

“Ah, good, you are awake.” The voice from the doorway was unmistakably Tenenbaum’s, and Jack sat up to face her. “I am going to examine you. Take that sweater off,” she commanded, setting a tray of instruments down on the table near his bed.

“What for?” Jack narrowed his eyes, instantly on alert. It wasn’t like her to suddenly care about his health and well-being, and he didn’t much like the idea of letting himself be the subject of any more tests or experiments. All he really wanted was to get some EVE into his veins and leave, go somewhere with Atlas so they could think about their next steps.

“He asked me to earlier,” she clarified, gesturing with her chin to Atlas, whose chest was rhythmically rising and falling as he slept a few cots away. “And I would like to observe the effect of—”

“He asked you to?” Jack repeated, eyes narrowing. “Why? I’m fine, I don’t need anyone _examining_ me. Besides, you should know everything there is to know about me, shouldn’t you?” he demanded. He knew Tenenbaum had had some part in his…birth? Creation? Whatever it was, she had been working with Suchong. Jack didn’t need her to confirm it; he assumed that Tenenbaum had been one of the ghostlike faces who he’d seen hovering above him in the bright light, injecting him with mysterious drugs while he’d been strapped to a table as a child… “You’re not _touching_ me!” he said, raising his voice.

She flinched back, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at Jack’s sudden aggression. The noise woke Atlas, who sat up looking wildly around, scanning the room for the cause of the commotion. “What’s going on?” he asked groggily, seeing that there were no apparent threats.

“She’s trying to run some kind of test on me, take me back and make me a lab rat now that I’ve been a good boy and done my duty,” Jack spat, his eyes full of rage.

Atlas got out of bed, suspenders hanging down and collared shirt forgotten at the foot of his bed. “Jacky boy, look at me,” he said calmly. Jack glared at him, but Atlas bore it, steadfast. “No one is going to keep you locked up. You know me, I wouldn’t let her do that. This was my idea. I asked Tenenbaum to run some tests and make sure you’re not getting that ADAM sickness. If you show any of the symptoms, we might be able to reverse it, but only if we act now.” Atlas explained things evenly and slowly, desperately wanting Jack to understand that he had no bad intentions. The sudden aggression didn’t seem like the Jack he knew, the man who at one point had nearly cried when he’d had to put down a group of splicers. ( _“They’re still human, just like the little sisters! I don’t want to have to kill all these people, they didn’t do anything wrong!”_ ) Atlas put a hand on Jack’s shoulder reassuringly as he’d done several times before, watching the fury in Jack’s eyes slowly dim.

“I’m not sick. You’re just wasting your time,” Jack mumbled. Nevertheless, he removed his sweater, sitting down on the edge of the cot and facing Tenenbaum. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

Tenenbaum had been watching with interest as the two men spoke, but now she snapped back to action, hardly explaining what she was doing as she made notes in the beaten-up notebook she carried. She did a cursory check of Jack’s body, ascertaining that all his wounds had really healed. Then, she ordered him to open his mouth, and she swabbed the inside of his cheek for a genetic sample. She took a small blood sample as well. Jack sat still through all of it, wondering if she could feel his displeasure. It wasn’t that he disliked Brigid Tenenbaum as a person; on the contrary, he admired that she had admitted her mistakes and was now trying to help the little sisters. She had helped him as well, giving him supplies and advice. But he couldn’t seem to shake the memories of what those scientists had done to him, and this ordeal was not helping. He was glad when it was over and he could put his sweater back on.

“When I’m done running the tests, I will get back to you. In the mean time, do not go too far,” she warned him.

Atlas had gone back to his cot and been dozing while the doctor worked, but he pulled himself up when he heard her leaving. While he dressed, he spoke to Jack from across the room. “Well? I think the two of us should have a talk, boyo.”

“About what? Your habit of overprotecting me?” Jack said, only half-serious.

“Me overprotecting? Which one of us used himself as a human shield on _multiple_ occasions? For all that talk about not wanting to kill any o’ them splicers, you sure were reluctant to let me do it.” Atlas crossed the room and sat down on a bed facing Jack, his elbows on his knees.

“Yeah, well…” Jack mumbled, “None of them were going to help me take down Fontaine, were they? I needed you.” He cleared his throat, but couldn’t quite suppress the blush that rose in his cheeks.

“Ah, was that it? Just keeping me around because I was useful? Well then, now that the bastard’s dead, I guess I’ll take my leave,” Atlas said nonchalantly. He stood up, making for the door.

“What? No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Jack said wildly, standing quickly and grabbing Atlas’ arm. He stared at him for a second, at a loss for words, before Atlas broke into a grin.

“Only teasing,” he assured Jack, turning back to the other man. “You really think you’re getting rid of me that easily?” That had been part of what he’d wanted to discuss: whether or not they should split up. Now he knew Jack’s feelings were in line with his own. _That’s lucky. I can’t imagine being in his hellhole alone,_ he thought.

Jack loosened his grip and unconsciously let his fingers trail down Atlas’ arm until they entwined with the other man’s. “Don’t say things like that,” Jack scolded lightly. “So…what are we going to do now? Live here?” Jack suggested it with obvious distaste; he wasn’t very keen on the idea of spending the rest of his life in a damp, dangerous nightmare.  

Atlas didn’t draw any attention to the fact that Jack seemed to be holding his hand; he feared that pointing it out would make Jack blush and pull away, and that wasn’t at all what Atlas wanted. “I… Well, there’s nothing keeping me here now, is there?” Atlas pointed out. Ryan and his gang were the ones who’d enforced the residency contracts, and now that was no longer a problem. They were free to leave, if they could. “I want to see the sun again,” he said honestly.

“Me too,” Jack said quietly. He’d spent nearly two years in Kansas with…whoever they were to him. His adoptive parents? Accomplices of Fontaine? Jack wasn’t sure of the truth anymore. At the time, he’d been brainwashed into thinking they were his parents, and the time he’d spent with them had been, overall, very happy. The farm in Overlook was just about all he knew of the outside world. _Would they be happy to see me again? Mom cried when I boarded the plane…did they love me?_

“…and then maybe—Hey, are you listenin’, boyo?”

Atlas’ voice broke through Jack’s thoughts and he snapped back to attention, taking a step backwards and wringing his hands, blushing scarlet when he realized he’d been holding Atlas’ hand the whole time. “N-no, sorry. I spaced out a minute.”

Atlas just smiled, feeling a little proud of himself that he’d been able to picture Jack’s embarrassed reaction so perfectly before it had even happened. “I was sayin’ that we should get out of here, the two of us. There were always rumors of people who got out, took a ‘sphere into one of the boating channels and were able to flag down a ship to Iceland.”

Jack didn’t know anything about Iceland, and the prospect of making the journey was daunting. They had no money, hardly any supplies, and no connections. Then again, could it really be worse than Rapture? “It seems worth a shot,” he said, nodding despite all his forebodings. He caught a glimpse, through the interior window, of some of the little sisters, now free of their mental conditioning. They didn’t deserve to live down here, either.

Atlas’ followed Jack’s gaze and instantly knew what form the young man’s thoughts were taking. “It would be a lot harder for us if we took them,” he pointed out quietly. “Two men and a flock of six year old girls? People would ask questions, boyo, you know they would. Not to mention food and lodgings—”

“I know,” Jack said dismally. He knew it would take a lot of convincing to get Atlas to agree, but Jack wasn’t ready to give up. Enough people had died in Rapture already. _I want to do something good,_ Jack thought to himself.

Tenenbaum reentered the room a while later, her face grave. “I need to talk to you,” she said flatly, addressing Atlas. He nodded and went to follow her to her office, but Jack stopped them.

“Is this about me? Don’t keep me in the dark, I have a right to know what’s going on,” he asserted.

Tenenbaum sighed, but acquiesced. “The ADAM sickness is manifesting in your body the same way as it does for anyone else. The bigger problem however, is that it is affecting you more quickly. Your previous genetic enhancements, specifically the ability to heal yourself, are interacting with the new changes brought on by ADAM. When the ADAM attempts to make a change to your body—for example, the lesions on your arms and face—it must do so more quickly and strongly than with a normal human in order for it to take effect. The ADAM inside you is evolving, becoming stronger than normal. This could mean stronger powers, better results from plasmids and gene tonics…” Old habits died hard, and the economic benefits of Jack’s condition were at the forefront of Tenenbaum’s mind. Atlas looked at her warily, familiar with the Rapture practice of profiting off of others’ suffering.

“So I’m going to turn into one of those things faster than normal, is that it?” Jack said, his mind jumping to worst-case scenarios.

“There is a way to stop the ADAM from completely taking hold. We simply have to break the addiction. If your body is denied ADAM and EVE, that which is already inside you will weaken. That is the setback of the stuff, it always demands more in order to work properly. Lucky for you, though, I suppose,” she pointed out with a chuckle.

Jack found little humor in the situation. Now that he faced the prospect of not getting any more ADAM, it was all he could think about. His fingertips seemed to itch, missing the thrum of it in his veins. _Mind over matter_ , Jack told himself. If this was the only way, he’d do it.

“I don’t suppose that’s going to be very easy,” Atlas put in. “The stuff’s worse than any drug I’ve ever seen.”

“Yes, we will have to keep an eye on him,” Tenenbaum muttered, already getting back to her other work. She turned back and fixed Atlas with a hard glare. “And keep him away from the little ones.”


	3. Chapter 3

The fact that Jack was now denied ADAM only made him want it more. In the back of his mind was a voice telling him that this was for his own good, and that he had to stick it out. However, the addiction had already taken root, and it was difficult to think of good down the line when in the here-and-now all he wanted was a syringe of ADAM, to feel the warm liquid coursing through his veins, making him buzz with that familiar hum. He and Atlas had gone out to inspect the Bathysphere in the Welcome Center to see if it could be salvaged. Jack was wary of going through Rapture without plasmids; they made everything a lot easier.

“I’ve seen you with that gun, I know you’re more than a match for anything we come across,” Atlas reassured him. Jack nevertheless felt jittery and on edge as they walked toward the nearest Metro station that would take them to the Welcome Center. This didn’t escape Atlas’ notice. He watched Jack intently, wondering if the other man was just nervous or if this was a manifestation of withdrawal.

Jack caught his gaze and frowned. “Yes?” he asked testily, annoyed at Atlas’ staring.

“How are you feeling, boyo?” Atlas asked carefully.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Jack said through gritted teeth. “I feel absolutely fine, contrary to what you and Dr. Tenenbaum are so keen on believing.”

“I know this won’t be easy for ya, but—”

“Spare me,” Jack said, suddenly annoyed. “I don’t need to hear you telling me this is for my own good every five minutes. You’re not helping.”

Atlas sighed, feeling a little annoyed that Jack was suddenly so peevish. “Alright then,” he muttered.

Jack rolled his eyes and sighed. “ _Don’t_ do that. Don’t act like you’re the victim here.”

“Oh, and you are? We’re trying to _help_ you! If you don’t stop with all this ADAM business, you’re going to end up a splicer, driven mad by addiction and barely able to function. Is that what you want?”

“You’re treating me like I’m a _child_!” Jack said exasperatedly. “You and Tenenbaum have done nothing but talk down to me ever since we killed Fontaine. Or should I say, since _I_ killed him, since all you did was get in my way. Despite the fact that _I’m_ the one who’s done the most good down in this shithole of a city, the two of you insist on acting like I’m totally incompetent!”

A small voice in Atlas’ head wondered if this was how Jack had always felt. He ignored the thought, focusing on what was more important right now. “That’s not what we think,” he said slowly. “I just can’t help but worry that the addiction might have clouded your judgment, boyo.”

“Stop calling me that! That’s _exactly_ my point, you’re treating me like I’m a little boy!” With that, Jack lashed out and pushed Atlas’ chest, shoving the man away from him. Atlas stumbled backwards a step, not having expected Jack to lash out, even in such a small way. Under Atlas’ shocked gaze, Jack rolled his eyes. “I’m going back. I suspect you can handle this yourself, since you’re the more capable one of us,” Jack said mockingly.

Atlas threw his hands up in defeat. _He wants to stop being treated like a child, so why is he acting so childish?_ he wondered. In the back of his mind, Atlas knew the increased irritability was a symptom of ADAM withdrawal. However, all he could think of at the moment was how much Jack was annoying him. “Fine. Go.”

The two split ways, Atlas heading for the Metro and Jack going back the way they’d came. Jack didn’t necessarily want to return to Tenenbaum’s makeshift sanctuary; there was nothing to do there but subject himself to questions and examinations from the doctor. Instead, Jack went onward, towards the apartment complexes of Apollo Square. When he and Atlas had gone through there earlier (Jack gave up trying to figure out how many days ago it had been), they hadn’t searched anything very carefully, so there was a high probability that he could find some EVE to mix with the remainder of the ADAM in his system.

He was rifling through a cabinet in Hestia Chambers when he heard the unmistakable heavy footfalls of a Big Daddy. Jack was instantly on alert, hearing the happy singing of a little sister as she and her protector made their way up the spiraling staircase in the middle of the apartment complex. _She’ll have ADAM_ , Jack thought. He wasted no time in checking his supply of armor-piercing rounds in his machine gun, preparing for a fight.

* * *

 

Jack was exhausted when the metal monster finally fell to the ground. It had been significantly easier to take them out with plasmids; he’d sustained more damage than usual, but Jack wasn’t concerned with that at the moment. He lunged for the little sister, who stood in the courtyard of Hestia Chambers, crying over her lost friend. Jack grabbed her arm, ignoring her shrieks as he looked about for something sharp that he could use. It wasn’t until he heard a voice nearby that he realized he wasn’t alone.

“Let her go, now!” Jack looked up, tightening his grip on the child. Tenenbaum stood pointing a gun at him, probably alerted by the clamor of the fight. “ _Bitte_ , don’t hurt her,” she pleaded, aiming right between his eyes. The girl whimpered pitifully, and Jack weighed his options. The girl would run if he let her go, and he had no doubt that Tenenbaum would shoot if he didn’t. “Jack, you are better than this. Let her go.”

Jack remembered when he’d first encountered the gatherers, and how he’d found it so barbaric that splicers would attack innocent children in order to feed their own addictions. _You’re no better than those monsters now_ , a voice in his head told him. His grip on the girl slackened as he felt the weight of that thought. With a cry, the little sister ran to Tenenbaum’s side, hiding behind her. Jack didn’t move. Tenenbaum slowly lowered her weapon in order to place her hand on the girl’s head, freeing her of the hypnosis.

Tenenbaum looked up at Jack, who was still standing there, dumbstruck. “Come with me,” she said, heading back to her safe house underneath the tram lines. Jack followed, all the fight drained out of him now. _Am I a monster like all those people I killed?_ he wondered. He frowned, beginning to feel angry again as they returned to the safe house. _If I am, it’s their fault. They did this to me, Atlas was the one who told me to inject myself with plasmids in the first place._ His thoughts turned dark, and he looked around at the little sisters playing happily in the main room as the doctor searched through a cabinet.

“I have something for you,” she said, pulling out a syringe and a bottle with some sort of liquid in it. “I fear I made a mistake thinking it would be best to stop all your ADAM intake at once. With your permission, I would like to give you a small dose now, and wean you off of it.”

At the mention of getting more ADAM, Jack’s ears perked up. He nodded, thinking that that was a much better solution.

“Good. It may be a shock to your system to reintroduce the drug, so you had best lie down,” Tenenbaum suggested, waving Jack into the room where he and Atlas had slept. Jack did as he was told, eager for more of the drug. Tenenbaum held his arm and stuck him with the needle, then waited, hovering over him. Jack briefly wondered why he didn’t feel the familiar buzz of ADAM in his system, but he didn’t have time to ask before he fell unconscious.

Tenenbaum’s brow was furrowed as she stood over Jack, waiting to make sure the sedative had taken effect before she tied his wrists and ankles to the bedframe.

Atlas returned some time later, looking haggard but not seriously injured. “Is the sub reparable?” Tenenbaum asked.

“I think so. We’ll have to get some tools and scrap metal, but I don’t think that should be too hard to come by,” he said dryly, looking around the place. “Is Jack here? He and I split up before we even got to the Metro.”

“You had an argument?” she asked.

“Thinks we’re treating him like a child,” Atlas explained. He kept to himself the fact that Jack also apparently resented Atlas and didn’t want him around. That had been on his mind for the whole journey.

“Ah. Increased aggression is a common side-effect of withdrawal.”

“Is he here?” Atlas repeated.

“Yes. In there. I have him drugged and restrained,” Tenenbaum explained nonchalantly.

“Excuse me?”

“I went out to find some more supplies, and heard a little one screaming. I ran to the noise, only to find him ready to split her open and take the ADAM from her belly,” Tenenbaum reported, a certain tightness in her throat. “So I returned here with him and tricked him into thinking I was giving him ADAM. Instead, I gave him a sedative. It should wear off soon, but I want him to remain tied up. I will not have him endangering these girls.” Something in her voice told Atlas that the point was non-negotiable. As unfair as it might be, and as angry as Jack would be when he awoke, Atlas had to agree that this was the best course of action. Until Jack was cured of the ADAM sickness, he would have to stay under close watch.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Jack felt groggy when he awoke, not nearly as well-rested as before. His arms ached, and he tried to roll over to get more comfortable on the cot. It was then that he noticed the restraints on his wrists and ankles. He tugged at them, to no avail. Panic washed through him like a wave. “Alas?” he called out, hoping for help.

Atlas entered the room quickly, as if he’d been waiting nearby.

“What’s going on?” Jack demanded before the man had a chance to speak.

“Calm down, Jack, you’re just fine,” Atlas tried to reassure him.

“I’m _not_ fine, what are you doing to me?” Jack said, raising his voice. Fear wheedled its way into his mind, and he lashed out at Atlas in defensive anger.

“Tenenbaum said you attacked one o’ her little girls,” Atlas said, trying to be gentle. He sat down on the cot next to Jack’s, figuring the man wouldn’t appreciate having someone looming over him. “She…didn’t think it was safe to have you so close to them.”

“So you tied me up? This is ridiculous, Atlas, let me out of this,” Jack pleaded.

“Boyo— _Jack_ , I need you to listen to me,” Atlas said, correcting himself when he remembered how Jack had lashed out at the use of the nickname. “Your ADAM addiction is going to take a while to break. You’re going to go through withdrawal,” he explained, trying to be calm and collected in the face of Jack’s growing displeasure. “I know you wouldn’t hurt those girls ordinarily, but this isn’t really you.”

“So you’re going to tie me up indefinitely?” Jack spat.

All Atlas’ questioning with Tenenbaum had been to no avail—she said there was no way to predict how long this would take. Atlas hoped, for all their sakes, it would be over soon. “I’m sorry. Until you’re healed of this, we’ve got to play by Mother Goose’s rules.” Jack glared at him, not saying anything. Atlas figured he was imagining the waves of anger he felt emanating from his friend. _Is he still going to be my friend after all this?_ Atlas wondered. “You want anything to eat?” he asked, hoping to extend some sort of feeble olive branch.

“No,” Jack said flatly.

Seeing that there was nothing else he could do, Atlas stood. “I scouted out that bathysphere. The damage isn’t anything too bad—I think I can fix it. I’m going to look for parts now.”

“Let me go with you,” Jack said, a pleading note in his voice.

It was hard to believe, in that moment, that this was the same man who’d tried to cut open a child’s stomach just hours earlier. Atlas reluctantly held his ground. “I can’t,” he said apologetically. Jack’s face darkened, and it made Atlas’ heart sink. “I’ll be back soon, alright?” he said. Jack didn’t respond, so he sighed and left without another word.

 

Atlas was no expert when it came to engineering, but luckily no one had thought the bathysphere manuals important enough to loot from the maintenance offices. He spent much of the day figuring out how to fix the broken hull, making plans for where he’d get the scrap metal and wiring he’d need. It was a big job, but he didn’t have anything else to do. He had the feeling that Jack just resented his presence now. Besides, this was their best chance at escape. Atlas just hoped that Jack would be well soon so they could leave this place.

While he was out, Tenenbaum monitored Jack. He only grew worse throughout the day; she didn’t need to run tests on him to see that. Not that he’d let her near enough to do so.

He’d broken out into a sweat, and his aggression had gotten worse. He’d begun thrashing and yelling whenever she approached him. Tenenbaum didn’t take it personally—she’d seen many patients do the same. She only hoped Jack ended up better off than those patients.

As the hours passed, Jack grew more subdued—Tenenbaum made a note that he seemed to be passing into another stage of the withdrawal. Jack slipped into a delirium, only half-awake. That was how Atlas found him when he returned to the safe house.

“He is no longer yelling, which is a relief,” Tenenbaum reported. “But he is extremely weak now. I theorize that—”

“I don’t need to know your theories,” Atlas reminded her, a little edgy from pouring over the complex engineering jargon for so long. He didn’t understand half of what she said anyway. “All I need to know is that he’s going to be okay.”

“He is not out of the forest yet,” Tenenbaum said. “We must keep close eye on him.”

Atlas went to the dormitory room, his heart clenching when he saw Jack.

“You’re back,” Jack said, his voice weak. Atlas marveled at the change from just a few hours earlier: now, Jack looked ragged, like he was only half-there. It was worse than Atlas had seen him after any fight, and it wasn’t reassuring. “I thought you left me for good.”

“No, I just went to check on that bathysphere, like I told you,” Atlas reminded him, taking a seat on the next bed. “How are you feeling?”

Jack groaned, and Atlas got the feeling that the sick man didn’t completely understand what was happening around him anymore. “Why did you do this to me? I hate this,” Jack said pitifully.

“I’m sorry, Jack, I really am. You’ve got to believe me, if there was any other way, we’d try it. Just hold on for a little while longer—”

“Why did you do this to me?” Jack mumbled again, tossing his head as if in a fitful dream. “You said you weren’t going to let them lock me up again. I thought you were going to protect me,” he said, practically whining.

It sounded to Atlas as though Jack were on the verge of tears, and it made his heart break. “I’m sorry, Jacky boy,” he whispered. “I don’t know what else to do. I can’t let you become one of those _things._ I need you,” he said sincerely, hoping to somehow get through to him.

Jack’s breathing became shallow and more rapid than normal, as if he were becoming hysterical. “You’re killing me,” Jack whispered. “I feel like I’m dying. Why are you doing this to me? What did I do wrong?” There were bright lights above him, and scary doctors wearing masks over their mouths. They hurt him. “Please, let me go,” Jack pleaded, tears forming in his eyes. The doctors didn’t listen. “Why don’t you just kill me?”

Atlas couldn’t take it. Whatever sort of dream Jack was having, it sounded terrifying. He didn’t notice falling to his knees at the side of Jack’s bed, but suddenly he was gripping the young man’s hand as if it were a raft on the sea. “I’m sorry, Jack, it’ll be okay soon, I promise,” Atlas whispered, his nerves shaken. He’d seen so much in Rapture—so much corruption, death, and horror—but this was one thing he’d never be prepared for. “You’ll pull through, boyo, I know how strong you are. I love you, just hold on, okay?” he pleaded. Atlas hadn’t prayed in years, but as Jack slipped into unconsciousness, Atlas found himself addressing any deity that would listen. He wondered if they could hear him this far below the waves.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack’s fever lasted for hours. He strained against the ropes tying him to the bedframe, groaning in pain and crying. He was only half-conscious, unreachable, but that didn’t stop Atlas from trying to calm him down. Tenenbaum looked in on the patient a few times and reminded Atlas that this was an unfortunate part of the process—Jack’s body was rebelling, unaccustomed to functioning without ADAM.

“This is no easy process. ADAM is unlike any drug I’ve seen before, using a symbiotic system within the body to—”

“Alright,” Atlas interrupted her irritably after hours by Jack’s bedside. “All I need to know is, when is he gonna be okay?”

Tenenbaum frowned, sparing a glance at Jack and sighing. “I do not know. I am not fully certain he _will_ be okay. No one has overcome the ADAM sickness before,” she reminded Atlas.

Atlas grew quiet. _I can’t lose him now, after all of this,_ he thought. He’d been sitting by Jack’s sickbed all day, since he’d woken up from his own habitually fitful sleep. There hadn’t been any change in the young man’s state except that his fearful crying and pleas, fueled by whatever nightmares he was having, had grown quieter. Atlas wasn’t sure if this was a good sign or bad. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, his voice feeling shaky. “I’m going out.” There was still a lot of work to be done on the bathysphere before it became a viable way for them to leave Rapture. The work would take his mind off Jack—it was better than staying here where all he could do was worry.

Atlas figured things out as he went along. He was by no means an engineer, but he was a quick learner, especially with the idea of escaping Rapture as a motivator. It was easy to lose track of time in Rapture—before, there had been timers that dimmed or raised the lights to correspond with the hour of the day. Now, however, many of them were broken. Whole sections of the city were pitch black. Atlas didn’t like to image what it was like for any humans left there.

 

 

Tenenbaum checked in on Jack every once and a while. For the most part, he was half-conscious and mumbling, straining against his restraints. It was improbable that he would regain enough consciousness all at once to try and attack a little sister again, but Tenenbaum had decided not to take any chances. Jack remained tied up.

It had been almost a full 24-hours since he’d become delirious: his body was slowly shutting down, and Tenenbaum wondered if he would ever regain full functionality. She kept notes on his case when she wasn’t working on her other experiments or caring for the girls. She was standing over him doing such work when Atlas returned to the safe house.

“I don’t want to…no, just let me go…”

Jack’s scared murmurings unnerved the both of them, but any form of verbal reassurance had no effect. Atlas entered the room, disheartened to see no change in his friend. “Has he changed at all?” Atlas asked her. It was getting more and more difficult for him to appear stoic and assured.

Tenenbaum sighed. “No. The cravings for ADAM are strong. Having been deprived for so long, his body is slowly beginning to shut down. If this keeps up, he will die.”

“How do we stop it?” Atlas asked impatiently.

“ _We_ cannot. It is up to him,” she said, gesturing to Jack. “He is strong, that’s why he is fighting it now. I only hope that he keeps fighting.”

It was immensely frustrating for Atlas to hear that there was basically nothing he could do to help his friend. Being powerless wasn’t something he enjoyed. Tenenbaum left the room, and Atlas, feeling exhausted both physically and mentally, sank down onto the cot next to Jack’s. The other room in the safe house was quiet, as the girls were all asleep. Atlas considered for a moment, then stood and moved over to Jack, untying the ropes around his wrists and ankles. There was no need for them now that Jack could barely even speak, let alone stand.

When that was done, he lay back down on his own dingy cot. It was a poor facsimile of the large, luxurious beds he and Jack had seen in apartments in Mercury Suites, but Atlas didn’t complain. He thought back to that day they had scoured Olympus Heights for supplies, trying to make quick work of it before heading to Fontaine’s. Both of them had been exhausted, so they’d barricaded the door, set traps, and had fallen asleep in one of those beds. It had only been a short rest, but it had been one of the soundest Atlas had gotten in some time. Rapture had a way of making sleeping difficult.

Jack curled up on his side, sleeping fitfully now. Atlas lay facing him, his heart feeling tight in his chest. “You’ve got to wake up, Jack,” he whispered. “I’ve almost got the bathysphere working. We’re going to get out of here, back up to the surface. And you and me, we’ll see the sun, and feel real grass…I’ll take you to New York, where I grew up. They’ve got buildings there even taller than the ones in Rapture. And you can look up from the ground at them, with nothin’ but clear sky above your head. And there’s so much more to see and do than in Rapture. There’s always different things to do, it’s just so full of _life_ , not like down here. I’ll show you all the places I used to go. It’s…been damn near twelve years since I’ve been there, so it’ll be nearly as new to me as to you, I’ll bet. I’ll think you’ll like it there. But if you don’t, we can always live somewhere else. Just…you just gotta wake up, okay? What you’re goin’ through, I know it’s hard, but you’ve faced worse, haven’t ya? And you always come out on top. You’re my miracle kid, just…” Atlas felt his body convulse with a sob, and his voice broke as the tears streamed from his eyes. “Please be okay. I’m sorry there’s nothing I can do to help you, but _please_ …”

Atlas got a headache, holding his breath in to muffle his crying. He fell asleep soon after.

 

 

Atlas walked through the glass tunnel that connected the district. There was not a soul to be found—he was the only living person in Rapture. The water was up to his ankles in most places now. It wouldn’t be long.

“Atlas…”

He kept on searching for what he was looking for—the chemical that would make him able to breathe underwater. It was the last thing the scientists had invented before they’d died. They died, like everyone else except him.

“…Atlas?”

The public address system had broken some time ago. Not even those annoying advertisements could keep him company now. He knew that going to the surface wouldn’t change anything—nothing would be any better there. He’d still be alone, even if he was surrounded by millions of people.

“Atlas?”

He woke up on the cot in Tenenbaum’s safe house, disoriented and looking for the source of the noise that had pervaded his dream. He looked around groggily, then noticed Jack staring at him from a few feet away. “You’re awake,” Atlas said in disbelief, his brain trying to catch up with everything as he jolted into a sitting position.

“I feel horrible,” Jack said, his voice weak and scratchy. He looked miserable, but Atlas couldn’t stop himself from feeling overjoyed at the very thought that Jack was alive and coherent.

“I’ll get you some water and something to eat, alright? And I’ll tell Tenenbaum to come take a look at you,” Atlas said excitedly, getting up. He moved quickly, wasting no time in telling Tenenbaum the good news. A look of mingled surprise and happiness appeared on her face when she heard it, and she quickly went to check on Jack.

The place was in a tumult for a while as the little sisters gossiped among themselves. Atlas prepared food for Jack and hurried back, loath to leave the young man’s side for any longer than necessary.

“…feel absolutely exhausted. And my head hurts,” Jack was saying as Atlas entered. Atlas handed over the food and water and Jack set upon it with all the enthusiasm that would be expected from someone who hadn’t eaten for nearly three days. Tenenbaum made a few notes and finished her cursory inspection of her patient.

“I believe you are stable again, but you must rest. There is no way to know for sure if all the ADAM is really out of your system. He will need to be monitored,” Tenenbaum explained, turning to Atlas.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” he promised. He couldn’t keep from smiling whenever he looked at Jack, despite the man looking haggard after his ordeal. Tenenbaum left them, and Atlas cautiously resumed his seat on his cot. “How much do you remember from…all of that?” he asked uncertainly.

Jack frowned down at his plate, suddenly feeling too awkward to meet Atlas’ eyes. “I remember arguing with you. And, at the time, I knew I was being stupid about things, but I just couldn’t calm down at all,” he explained, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

“I don’t blame you,” Atlas reassured him. “You were right about some things. Maybe I am a little overprotective,” he confessed sheepishly.

“Given the circumstances, I should be thanking you for that,” Jack pointed out. “And…were you here with me while I was sick? Or was that a dream too?” he asked shyly.

Atlas blushed a little. “I was here sometimes. When I wasn’t working on fixing the bathysphere.”

Jack nodded slowly. Both men felt the awkward tension hanging in the air between them. Jack rubbed his hands over his face and stifled a groan. “How long was I out for?”

“About two days,” Atlas said. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“I’m sure I need a lot of things,” Jack said, making an effort to smile. “Nothing too immediate, though. I just want to rest,” he said.

Atlas nodded, looking his friend over. “I’m glad you’re awake,” he said with a shy smile. “I thought you were going to leave me.”

Jack didn’t return the nervous chuckle Atlas gave him. Instead, he grew somber. “I’m sorry for how much trouble I caused. And for making you worry,” he said quietly.

“That doesn’t matter,” Atlas reassured him. “You’re better now. And we’re getting’ out of here soon.” Atlas told Jack about the progress he’d made with the bathysphere, and how it meant that they were closer than ever to leaving Rapture.

Jack did his best to hide the worried expression that came over his face. “That’s great news,” he said, averting his gaze.

“You don’t seem happy. Ya don’t want to stay down here, do ya?” Atlas asked, confused. Jack should be elated about the prospect of leaving.

“Hell no, of course not,” Jack clarified quickly. “I was just wondering… I mean, I don’t know much about the surface, so…” he struggled over his words for a moment before steeling himself and spitting out what he wanted to say. “You won’t leave me, will you?” His voice sounded much more childish and scared than he’d intended, and he blushed but forced himself to watch Atlas’ expression.

Atlas was stunned for a second, then smiled a little. “Of course not, boyo,” he said softly. “I love you too much to ever leave ya.” He watched Jack carefully, ready to play off the declaration at the slightest sign of discomfort from Jack.

No such negative reaction came, however. Jack blushed and looked down at his hands where they were folded in his lap. “I love you too,” the young man said, unable to fight the smile that came over his lips. “Will you…tell me about the surface?” he asked shyly. He didn’t add that he wanted to be able to better imagine his and Atlas’ life there.

He didn’t need to say it, though. Atlas, smiling enough to make his cheeks hurt, moved to sit more comfortably on the edge of his cot. “Sure thing.” Atlas described everything he could think of: the sky, the parks in the middle of the city, all the cars hurtling down the streets, a constant flood of people and sound and light…it all seemed such a stark contrast to the desolated Rapture. The one consistency, however, was that the two of them were together.


End file.
